Drowning in Darkness
by I'm a Loser
Summary: When Kyle falls into a diabetic coma Stan confesses his true feelings for his best friend. Lame summary, but it's not half bad. FINISHED. rated for language.
1. Sleepover

**Author's Note: **Sorry that it's so long, but I had to fit a lot of random crap in this chapter. The next few chapters will be better and not as tedious. This is my first SP fic that isn't just a oneshot that I've actually done something with, so sorry if it sucks ass.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own South Park or its characters, etc. etc. and all that shit.

**Downing in Darkness**

**Chapter 1: Sleepover **

Stan glanced at the clock in Mrs. Gerrison's classroom. It was Friday and the day had dragged by like a lifeless turtle. As much as he wanted school to be over, he was dreading this weekend. His parents had told him that they were going out for some romantic weekend or some shit like that, so that left only him and Shelly at the house; him and Shelly in the house ALONE.

_I know! _He thought as a light bulb flicked on in his mind, _I'll have Kyle over; she can't take on the two of us, right?_

"Kyle," Stan whispered loudly and leaned to his right.

Kyle looked up from whatever book they were suppose to be reading and smiled. "What?"

"Do you wanna come over for a sleepover tonight and tomorrow?"

"Stanley! There's only five minutes left of school. Can't whatever you're gonna say to you're gay little friend wait until class is over!" She hissed and returned to marking their math tests. "Stupid fucks, can't keep quiet for five fuckin' minutes," their teacher mumbled under her breath.

"Yeah, sure, but I'd have to go home and get my stuff first." Kyle was excited; they hadn't had a sleepover since Stan's birthday in October.

Stan glanced over and blue eyes met green ones causing Kyle to blush for some unknown reason. He had to admit that Kyle made him feel things he had never felt for anyone ever before, not even Wendy. His touch sent his heart into arrhythmia and his smile makes the butterflies in his stomach do back flips. _Does that make me gay? _Stan wondered as he noticed that he was still staring at his best friend. _Nah, that's sick! I don't like Kyle like that…Or do I? _He let the question nagging his mind die as he heard the bell ring to announce school's end.

"I didn't think this day would ever end!" Kyle said and plopped down next to Stan on the bus.

"I know! S-so you can come over and stay the weekend, right?" Stan was still scared shitless of his headgear-wearing sister Shelly.

"Yeah… You okay, dude? You sound kinda nervous," Kyle noted and looked worryingly at his dark haired friend.

"Well, it's just that I don't want to be left alone with Shelly," he said her name in a hushed voice as if it were a bad word.

Kyle opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Cartman's loud insulting. "Are you sure it's you're not just making up an excuse to get Kahl to sleep with you, fag?"

"Cartman shut the hell up!" Kyle returned.

"Oh, looks like someone has a little sand in his vagina. Does it itch, Kahl? I bet it does," Cartman looked dead serious, but Kenny was rolling on the floor holding his side he was laughing so hard.

"Dude, that's not funny. And that's not the reason I want Kyle over, okay?" Stan added coolly.

"Right, you're scared of your sister, aren't you Stan? If a woman ever treated me like that I'd say 'Aye! Bitch, listen to meh! I'm the man, so you'd better fucking pay the fucking respect I deserve!' That's what I'd say to your sister," the fat-ass smugly sat back in the broad bus seat.

"I'm glad to see your respect for women has changed," Stan said facetiously and rolled his eyes dramatically.

The boys stepped off the bus and went their separate ways except for Stan and Kyle; they headed off to the Broflovski household so Kyle could pack for the weekend.

As soon as the door opened Mrs. Broflovski hurriedly greeted her son. "Oh hi buhbee! How was your day at school?" She hugged him tightly and noticed Stan lingering behind Kyle a bit. "Hello Stanley. Would you like to stay for supper?"

"Um, I was actually wondering if Kyle could come over for a sleepover," pause, "for the whole weekend."

"I guess so. Just remember to bring your blood glucose monitor and insulin, Kyle," Sheila reminded.

"What?" Stan looked at Kyle quizzically.

"For my diabetes."

"Oh," Stan looked at the floor, a bit embarrassed. He kept forgetting that Kyle had to jam a needle into his side before he ate.

"You should go up and get packed and then both you boys can walk over to Stanley's house, but be very careful," Sheila's over-protectiveness came out as she nagged her son. "There could be criminals lurking just around the corner."

"Mom, it's day time, Stan doesn't even live five minutes away, and there's two of us; we'll be fine," Kyle assured her as both boys climbed the stairs to the upper level of the house where Kyle's room was.

It took not but two minutes for Kyle to throw two days worth of clothes into a small green duffle bag and head back down the stairs. They descended the stairs and Stan began to get nervous that the two of them wouldn't be able to take on Shelly if she bitched out at them.

"See you on Sunday, Mom," Kyle called as he headed for the door.

"Bye Kyle, have fun at Stanley's. Oh, and Stan, could you say hi to Sharon for me?"

"She's n-"Stan started, but Kyle abruptly elbowed him in the side. His mom wouldn't let him go if she knew his parents weren't home. "Sure thing, Mrs. Broflovski," Stan corrected quickly.

As Kyle had said, it only took them five minutes to get to the Marsh residence. Stan stopped a few feet from the door and sighed heavily. He glanced over at Kyle who was smiling at him; this gave him new-found courage and he walked up to the door and pulled it open.

"Hey, Shelly," Stan greeted. "Kyle's staying the weekend, alright?"

"Whatever turd, just stay out of my way; my new boyfriend is coming over and I don't want you to screw it up. And if you tell Mom when she gets back you're dead!" She spit as she yelled. Stan hated that stupid headgear almost as much as Shelly did.

"What's for supper?" Stan asked, hearing his stomach rumble loudly.

"Pizza, but we aren't gonna eat until five. Then Brick's coming over," Shelly's voice oozed adoration at the mention of her boyfriend's name.

Stan made a disgusted gesture and Kyle laughed.

"What's so funny, turds?" Shelly fumed.

"N-nothing," Stan quickly waved his hands back and forth. Then he whispered to Kyle, "Let's go upstairs before she wails on us."

Kyle grabbed his duffle bag and followed Stan up to his room and his heart raced as his gaze drifted down to Stan's firm little ass. _Why the fuck am I looking at Stan's ass. _Kyle closed his eyes tight and reopened them as the ascended the last step.

When they reached Stan's room, Kyle dropped his duffle bag in the corner of his friend's room. He watched as the slightly older boy collapsed onto his bed. Kyle himself sat down and crossed his legs. He rested his elbow on his leg and his chin in his palm, and then he noticed he was staring at Stan again. _Why do I keep doing that? _He asked himself and was thankful that Stan apparently hadn't noticed.

To take his mind off Stan and his firm ass, he decided to take his insulin. He uncrossed his legs and reached into the side pocket of his duffle bag to fish out a small gray bag.

Stan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts on his Jewish friend, but not of what he was currently doing. He thought about his eyes, his smile, his Jewfro. Stan giggled at the word as it skimmed his mind.

Kyle took out the needle, removed the top, and placed it back in its protective gray bag which then went back in the side pocked of the duffle bag.

They sat silently for a while and then Stan started taking his coat off. "Is it just me or does the house seem, like a lot hotter than it usually does?" His brown, red-trimmed jacket hit the floor, along with his red poof-ball hat, and red mittens.

"Yeah, you're right, dude," Kyle replied taking his jacket and mittens off, but not daring to reveal his flaming Jewfro.

"Ugh, this is probably Shelly's fault," Stan felt immediate rage at the mention of his sister's name.

"Shelly, why is it so hot in here?" Stan questioned when the boys made it down to the kitchen.

"Because I want to be able to wear something skimpy when Brick shows up and it's too damn cold most of the time." Stan got showered in spit and quickly wiped his face of it.

Stan started saying something, but the doorbell rang and Shelly anxiously shoved him out of the way. The chestnut-haired teen opened the door to reveal an older man; a _much _older man.

"Hey babes," he greeted and slinked an arm around her waist. He kissed her open-mouthed and noticed two boys in white t-shirts staring. "Um, is that you're little brother?"

"Yeah, and his friend; they're both turds," Shelly's eyebrows furrowed as Brick's attention was pried from her to her little brother and the Broflovski boy making gagging noises and laughing.

"Let's go somewhere else; I don't feel right making out in front some little kids." Brick sneered and pulled Shelly out the door.

"Pizza's in the oven, turds. Pull it out in twenty minutes." She slammed the door and was gone.

They turned on the TV until they heard the stove timer go off.

"Pizza time!" Stan yelled, jumped off the couch, and ran to the kitchen. Kyle trailed hungrily behind.

Stan pulled on his mother's pink oven mits over his small hands and reached into the oven to retrieve the pizza. The smell of pepperoni and double cheese wafted through the house and made the boys drool.

Stan started to pull the pink oven mits off when Kyle noticed what he was wearing. "Dude," he laughed, "you're wearing _pink_ oven mits! Ahaha!"

"Shut up," Stan smirked and threw one at his friend, hitting him squarely in the face.

Stan opened a drawer and fished out the pizza cutter. It was a round pizza and he cut it in to quarters. He handed Kyle one and then got one for himself.

"Ow!" Kyle yowled as he bit in. "It's fucking hot!"

"You okay, dude?" Stan wanted to sound concerned as he stifled a laugh.

"Yeah, it's just really hot."

The boys put their pizza on plates and went back to the living room to watch TV and eat. Once the pizza cooled down it was quite tasty. They both ate another quarter and the entire pizza was gone.

"Oh man, I don't feel so well," Kyle groaned after taking the last bite of his second quarter. Then shock registered. _Fuck! Holy fucking shit! _"Hey Stan, do you remember if I took my insulin? I can usually remember or at least Mom knows."

"I don't think so. I didn't see you take it anyway." _But then again I was so absorbed in _thinking _about you that I didn't notice what you were actually doing._ Stan thought. "Maybe you should go take some now just in case. Couldn't hurt, right?"

"Yeah okay." Kyle pushed off the couch and dragged himself upstairs. There he found himself in Stan's room to get his needle. He had no recollection of taking it less than an hour ago.

He plopped down on the couch next to Stan and said, "I'm safe now."

"Good, I don't want you dieing at my house, or dieing any time soon," Stan smiled at his best friend who smiled back at him.

Stan flicked through the channels until finally resting upon an old horror flick. Not old enough to be in black-and-white, but certainly old enough to have shitty special effects. They sat and watched for a full hour before Kyle noticed he was feeling worse.

"S-Stan, I feel r-really dizzy, dude." Was the last thing Kyle said before passing out on the floor.


	2. Hell's Pass Once again

**Author's Note: **I'm not super proud of this chapter, but it'll come around eventually, stay with me please begs. And many thanks to EvilSpork for letting me know Stan's real adress.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own South Park or its characters, etc. etc. and all that shit.

**Drowning in Darkness**

**Chapter 2: Hell's Pass Yet Again**

"Kyle! Kyle!" Stan shook his unconscious best friend. "C'mon dude, stop joking around." Panic hung on his voice and in the air. Tears pricked his eyes and cascaded down his cheek to his friend lying beneath him. Holy shit," Stan murmured and rushed hastily to the phone.

9-1-1 he punched in with quaking fingers. Ring…Ring…Ring… "Hello, 9-1-1 how may I help you?" A feminine voice answered on the other end of the phone.

"Y-you gotta send an ambulance to 2001 Bonanza street. My friend is, er uh, has fainted," Stan chewed his bottom lip as he stuttered into the white piece of plastic pressed firmly against his ear.

"We'll send an ambulance right up, sir."

"Thank you," Stan whispered in a hushed voice. "Hurry."

"What's wrong with him?" Mrs. Broflovski's voice rang through the halls of Hell's Pass Hospital. "What happened to my little bubehlah?!?" She wailed and clutched ever tighter to her equally concerned husband.

"Kyle is in a diabetic coma," the doctor informed them.

Sheila's knees began to buckle and she grasped tighter to Gerald. "But I'm sure he'd remember to take his insulin," she whimpered.

"That's just the thing; he took too much insulin which means that his blood sugar dropped, not bringing any energy to the brain and thusly causing it to shut down. We just have to inject a sugar formula in his blood stream and he should pull out of it in a few days," the doctor explained, offering new hope.

"Let's go tell Stanley, he hasn't left Kyle's side since he fainted," Gerald offered, glancing over at his distraught wife, then changing his mind. "Maybe _I _should tell him. You should sit down and take it easy, honey." He led his dismayed wife to a stiff chair to sit down.

"Kyle," Stan gently touched his auburn-haired friend's hand with his own. "Please be okay. I love you too much, man. As gay as that sounds it's true. I stayed with you the whole ride to the hospital. It nearly killed me to see them sticking things in you and all the noise. But I held your hand the whole time. Kyle, you have to be alright, dude."

"Stanley? I have to talk to you about something," Gerald called at the door.

"Hmm?" Stan glanced up and managed to tear himself from Kyle's side. Sniffing and whipped his tear-stained cheeks, Stan walked over to Gerald. "What's wrong with Kyle?" Stan questioned, eyes glued to the tiled hospital floor, not wanting to have his best friend's dad see his eyes watering over with salty tears.

"He's in a diabetic coma, but the doctors think he's going to be alright," Gerald forced a smile to convince Stan that everything was going to be fine.

"Is," Stan sighed and tried to speak again, although his voice continued to falter. "Is it my fault?"

"Oh, Stanley," Gerald knelt down and put a hand on Stan's shoulder, "it wasn't anyone's fault."

"Do you think I could spend the night here? I really don't wanna leave Kyle, ya know, incase something happens." Stan glanced back at his unconscious friend.

Gerald's smile faltered. "I'll check it out. I'm going to give your parents a call first to tell let them know what happened. They must have been pretty concerned when the ambulance pulled up."

"Actually, my parents aren't home," Stan thought of his sister, "but I guess Shelly might want to know."

"I'll go give her a call. It's late so I'm sure she's worried," Gerald smiled again and patted Stan lightly on the shoulder. Stan rolled his eyes; he was _so sure _his sister gave a fuck where he was just so long as he came home before his parents did, and he came back relatively unscathed.

As much as he liked the older Jewish man, what he really wanted was to be alone with Kyle, so that he could talk to him more. He sauntered back to the limp human form on the hospital bed. He removed Kyle's trademark green ushanka revealing his unruly strawberry locks.

Running his fingers lovingly –_friend lovingly, _Stan affirmed in his mind- through the sweet soled nine-year-old's outrageous hair, he sighed and rested his head on Kyle's chest. Tears poured from his ocean-blue eyes onto the white hospital gown covering his friend who wasn't even aware of his presence. His ear picked up the sound of his heart beating, thumping melodiously in time with the beeping of his heart monitor.

"I wonder if you can hear me," Stan sniffed and pulled away to look at Kyle's still face.

_Stan? Stan is that you? Where are you? Why is it so dark? Why can't I move? What the hell happened?!?_ Kyle's mind screamed, but nothing responded directly to him. He could hear Stan's southing voice, but it sounded weak and sad. And he kept saying stuff like 'please be okay' and 'I'm so sorry if this was my fault'. _Are you crying about me, Stan? Please tell me what's going on, dude._

Another sniff, "The doctors said that you'll be alright soon. It's only been," he glanced at the clock which informed him that it was 3 am the day after he had slipped into unconsciousness. "Like, eight hours since you, uh, fainted. I'm gonna spend the whole night with you incase you wake up. The doctors said it might be a few days. I didn't realize how much time has passed; I'm exhausted, dude. I think I'll," yawn and stretch, "go to sleep." He positioned himself carefully next to Kyle on the less-than-comfortable hospital mattress. The sweet smell of Kyle's hair was the last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep.


	3. Sweet Sounds of Stan

**Disclaimer: **I don't own South Park or any of its characters, etc. etc. and all that shit. The songs that I put in are also not mine; they are copyright their respected artists yadda yadda. Everyone's happy.

**Drowning in Darkness**

**Chapter 3: Sweet Sounds of Stan**

That morning, Stan awoke to be greeted by the familiar scent of his room. He groggily dragged open his eyes, then they flew open and blinked furiously. _Why am I in my own room and not the hospital? I coulda sworn that's were I was last night… _In his early morning not-quite-awake phase, he barely remembered the events of the previous night.He rubbed his eyes and hopped out of bed. He ambled down the stairs to find his parents in the kitchen.

"Good morning, son," Randy Marsh greeted his red-eyed and exhausted son.

"I thought you guys went to some relationship thing, why are you back?" Stan rubbed his eyes again and glanced unbelievingly at the kitchen clock; it was already one o'clock in the afternoon, how had he slept so late?

Then everything came back; the pizza, Kyle fainting, the ambulance ride, finding out that his super best-friend was in a coma. Indescribable sadness ravaged his heart and he sat down, a blank expression gracing his young face.

"We thought that your well being was more important than some silly relationship getaway. We can only imagine how sad you must feel, honey," Sharon pulled her son close.

"My well being, _my _well being? Mom, Kyle's in a fucking coma!" Stan waved his arms wildly. "I wanna go back to see him right now. Why did you bring me home from the hospital? I wanted to stay with Kyle."

"Stanley, watch your language!" Mrs. Marsh scolded, but then her voice softened. "The doctors wouldn't let you stay, honey. After your sister called to let us know what happened, we thought it would be best if you came home with us," Sharon replied, rubbing her son on the back.

"Oh," Stan managed. "So, can we go up and see him?"

"Sure thing, sweetie," Sharon smiled at him. "Randy, how about you go start the car while Stanley gets dressed."

"Alright, hon." Randy grabbed his coat and stepped into the fresh early afternoon air.

Stan had never gotten dressed so quickly in all his life. He brushed his teeth furiously and didn't bother to brush his mop of raven-black hair; he'd just hide it under his hat anyway.

On his way down the stairs, his acoustic guitar sitting in the corner caught his eye and his dull blue hues began to sparkle brilliantly. _Maybe Kyle would like some music; _he mused and grabbed it hastily as he continued to the car.

"Hey, Ky," Stan greeted as he swiftly resumed his position on the chair to Kyle's immediate right after his parents left to take the Broflovskis out to lunch. "I brought my guitar to play you a song. Hope you like it, well here is." Stan began the intro to _Until the Day I Die _by Story of the Year on his guitar.

_Stan? It's good to hear your voice, _Kyle thought, desperately hoping he could communicate with his friend somehow. _I still can't move, I- _His thoughts were cut short as the melodious sound of an acoustic guitar rang through his ears. _That's beautiful, _Kyle thought, then Stan's voice filled his head.

"Until the day I die, I'll spill my heart for you, for you. Until the day I die, I'll spill my heart for you. As years go by, I waste the clock with you, but if you die right now, you know that I'd die too. I'd die too. You remind me of the times when I knew who I was. Still the second hand will catch us, like it always does." Stan stopped singing for a moment, but kept the tune with his guitar. He glanced over to see if it had any affect on Kyle. None that he could see, but he kept singing, "We'll make the same mistakes. I'll take the fall for you. I hope you need this now, 'cause I know I still do."

Suddenly Kyle felt his body float and drift around weightlessly. He was still surrounded by darkness, but Stan's voice accompanied by the soft guitar made it seem a little less lonely. _I didn't know you had such a beautiful voice. You know, this only makes me love you more, _Kyle would have smirked if he could have. Then the music stopped and Kyle was returned to immobility. _Goddamnit! _

Stan set his guitar down gently and propped himself close to Kyle on the stiff mattress. He leaned over and gently kissed him on the forehead.

"I knew it! I knew it! You are such a little fag!" Cartman pointed and laughed hysterically as he broke Stan's moment of serenity.

"Shut up fatass! Kyle's just my friend," _even though I want him to be more… What the fuck? I did_ not_ just think that. _"And I care about him, unlike you. I bet you just came to rip on him for being in a fucking coma!" Stan fumed.

Stan's outburst blew right over Cartman as he noticed the guitar in the corner. "Awe, I bet you even sung him a love song. What a fucking faggot, huh Kenny?"

"Haha, yeah! Everyone knows you want him, Stan," they decoded from the muffled voice emitting from behind the suffocating orange parka.

"Hey! I do not," Stan's eyebrow creased in anger. "Get the hell outta here!"

"Now way, Stan, we want to pay our respects to the soon dead Kahl." Cartman and Kenny moved closer.

"He is not going to die, Cartman." Stan wanted to sound sure of himself, but all he was sure of was that his voice was breaking and weak.

"Whatever, Stan, you know it just as well as we do. And I am sure you are also aware of your faggy little gay-ass love for him," Cartman taunted.

Usually Stan would just brush it off or come back with something twice as witty, but it was different with this because this was true. And he _definitely _didn't want Cartman to find out; he would never hear the end of it.

Stan huffed. "I have to go to the washroom. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"Now, why would we do anything to poor Khal? God, Stan, overprotective much?" Stan started to walk out the door and eyed them suspiciously as they giggled and walked towards Kyle's bed.

_Jesus, why the hell am I leaving them alone in there? _Stan thought as he made his way to the hospital lavatory. He splashed water at his haggard face and answered his question; _because I don't want to face them now. I don't want to cry in front of them and I don't want them finding out that I like Kyle… No! _Stan stubbornly argued in his head. _I do not like Kyle like that! _He stared at the mirror with unblinking eyes. _Of course I like Kyle like that, what the hell am I gonna do?_

Stan turned to corner that brought him closer to Kyle's room and the closer he got, the clearer the giggling became. "What did they do?" Stan mumbled under his breath and quickened his pace.

Stan opened the door to witness Cartman sticking Kyle's finger up his nose. "Bahaha!" Cartman's voice boomed. "Oh my gawd, that was a sweet idea, Kenny."

"Goddamnit Cartman, I can't even leave you alone for five fucking minutes and you're being a dick to Kyle; he's fucking unconscious, dude! That's pretty low." Stan crossed the room and removed Kyle's hand from his nose.

"Looks like some of the sand in Khal's vagina made it to yours. Gawd, you are such a little pussy," Cartman threw at Stan who proceeded to kick his ass.

"Erick, honey, it's time to go. You can visit Kyle tomorrow if you want," Mrs. Cartman called from the doorway.

"But moooom!" Cartman whined. "I'm not done making fun of Khal."

"Come on, sweetheart, I'll make some fudgey cakes for you," Cartman's mom pressed.

"Fhine, Mom. C'mon Kenny, let's leave the fags alone." Cartman promptly strolled out of the room, following his mom.

Kenny muffled a "Just a minute," and locked Stan's gaze in his own. He sighed and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. Kenny spoke for a short while, his words masked into almost incomprehensible gibberish that Stan decoded into, "Look man, I know you really care about Kyle and there's nothing gay about loving your best friend. I can understand how you feel and if you want anyone to talk to or just have someone listen, just come find me." He squeezed the jacket covered shoulder and offered a smile, though hidden in the bright orange depths smothering his face. He almost considered adding 'I've died enough times to know what it feels like', but promptly discarded it, realizing that this was neither the time nor place.

Stan hadn't seen much of the sensitive Kenny, but he liked it a lot more than the Kenny he was around Cartman.

The orange hooded kid turned to leave and Stan bid adieu to the sweet blond-haired boy who had just offered him the support he needed. Sighing, Stan confidently walked back over to Kyle and took his hand.

"I hate Cartman," his voice sounded foreign to him and he noticed his thumb was stroking Kyle's palm.

_Me too, dude._

"And I think I love you." Warmth seeped back into his all-too-familiar voice. He was completely unaware of the fact that Kyle could hear every word he uttered.

_…Holy shit. I-I love you too, Stan. You wouldn't even believe how much I've wanted to hear that. _Kyle, unlike Stan, was quite aware of his infatuation with his best friend.

"Man, I hope you don't remember any of the things I say," he chuckled, "you'd probably never talk to me again." Stan pulled the Jewish boy's hand to his face and kissed it, lingering for a moment before returning it to the harsh unloving bed beneath him.

"Stanley." A voice came and the door swung opened. It was his parents, Kyle's parents and some doctors. "They need to do some tests on Kyle, honey. We should go."

"Why can't I stay?" He glanced over at his friend. "I'll wait outside or something."

"It's going to be a while, Stan," Gerald interjected. "We'll call you if anything happens." Kyle's father smiled weakly; he looked almost as exhausted as his wife.

"Alright," Stan gave in and picked up his guitar. "It's gonna be alright, dude. I promise," Stan told Kyle before leaving. He didn't want to think about what tests they would perform on Kyle, so he didn't even give Kyle one thought until the next day he saw him; or rather, at least he _tried _not to think of his sick friend or how smitten he was by him.

"Kyle? Oh my god, dude, you're better!" Stan enveloped his friend who was now fully conscious in an enormous bear-hug, knocking him to the ground.

Kyle laughed, "Excited?"

"Hey, you were out for a couple of days, man, I was so worried. So of course I'm excited," he cried and helped Kyle up, then dipped him romantically and began to smother his face with kisses; passionately using his tongue in ways Kyle had never even fathomed.

"I love you," he cooed to his lover.

"I love-"

"Stanley, time for church!" Sharon Marsh called up the stairs to her son.

_Goddamnit, it was just a dream. _Stan blinked disbelievingly;_ I just had an erotic dream about Kyle. I should talk to Chef about this…_

Before his could finish his train of thought completely, his father called up to him. "Stan, get your ass down here! We're going to be late." Not trying deliberately to sound vexed at his son, but realizing that's how it came out.

It made Stan hurry down, though. He seemed unfazed by Randy's previous tone of voice, but the older Marsh man elected to apologize. "Look Stan, I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"What? Dad, it's fine." Stan gave his dad a weird look as if he genuinely apologized for something as stupid as knocking in to him by accident.

In church, Stan followed his father to find their family's usual seat amongst the many pews. Stan thought only of Kyle and wondered if his God would still help him even though his Jewish friend was of a different faith. Stan decided He would because Kyle was a good guy and he didn't fully understand how God worked.

Church couldn't have dragged by slower, but finally they were set free and Stan rushed to the car. Once seated, he asked if they could stop by Chef's house for a minute before going to visit Kyle.

"Sure thing, Stanley, it's on the way," his mother smiled and drove up to Chef's house.

Stan knocked on the door and after a moment the large black man answered the door. "Hello Stan, how can I help you today?"

"Chef, what happens when you're in love?" Stan nervously asked and absently tugged at his sleeves.

"Is this about Wendy again, Stan?" Chef asked patiently.

"No, this is totally different. Can I come in to explain?"

"Sure you can." Stan followed the best advice giver he knew into his home. "Now, who is it that you're in love with."

Stan took a deep breath before breathing out loudly. "Kyle. I love Kyle."

"Oh, you mean like friendship love, or _love-_love?" Chef queried to make sure his initial assumption was correct.

"Um, love-love; he's my best friend," Stan started franticly, hardly believing he had just confessed his feelings. "What do I do?"

"That's a tough one, children," Chef mused, merely out of matter of habit. "I think you should tell him how you feel. It's better to have something like that out in the open instead of all welled up insida you, ya know?"

"Thanks Chef." Stan didn't feel much better about it, but he knew that Chef was probably right.

On the ride to the hospital, all Stan could think about, once again was Kyle (surprise, surprise), and how he would react to his best friend having a crush on him. Stan didn't know if he'd tell him when he was conscious if Kyle couldn't remember anything, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

The Broflovski's were in Kyle's room sporting long faces. Stan heart immediately skipped a beat, fearing that something terrible had happened. He ran over to the bed to perceive that nothing obvious had changed.

"Anything new with Ky?" He questioned, still anxious.

"No, nothing at all. The doctors said he'd pull out any day though," Mrs. Broflovski responded, only bothering to steal a glace of Stan before returning her gaze to her immobilized boy.

"Kyal's stiwl sick," Ike piped at Stan, who had almost forgotten about the small Canadian.

"Oh, that sucks." Stan desperately wanted some alone time to talk to Kyle.

"Hey, you know what would be a good idea?" Sharon started after a moment of painful silence. "We should take you two out to a movie. It might cheer you up. And Shelly could take care of Ike for a couple of hours while Stan stayed here with Kyle." Stan could have sworn his mother had read his thoughts and he could never have thanked her enough.

"Sure, I think I need to get away for a bit and a movie sounds like a lovely idea.

The Broflovskis and the Marshes –with the exception of Stan- headed for the door and Stan was alone with Kyle.

"Hey dude, I didn't bring my guitar today."

As news of no guitar reached Kyle, his heart sank a little. _But you play so beautifully._

"I talked to Chef today about the fact that I think I love-love you and he said I should tell you. I know I already have, but I think I should elaborate." Breathing in deeply, Stan started, "I love everything about you; from your stunning green eyes to your adorable Jewfro."

_Not funny man! I can't help that I have my mother's hair. _

"I love your laugh, you voice, your smell, how smart you are, how caring you are, how no matter how much trouble we get into you're always there for me to help me figure it out. I have never loved a person the way I love you."

…_Even more than Wendy?_

"I love you even more than I have ever loved Wendy," Stan said out of what he thought was nowhere. "I don't know why I just said that." It must have been their already deep and not wholly understood relationship that caused Stan to know exactly what his unconscious friend was thinking without passing a single word. "Even though I don't have my guitar, I thought I'd still sing you a song. It's kinda old, but I really like it." Stan cleared his throat before beginning a classic Beatles song. "Words are flying out like endless rain into a paper cup. They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe. Pools of sorrow waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind, possessing and caressing me. Jai guru deva om. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world."

Stan voice again set Kyle free of his immobility to float freely around his mind while the southing melody of Stan's soft voice carried light through the dark depths of Kyle's mind. _I didn't think I could love you more, but your voice is just one more thing. _

Stan finished the song holding Kyle's hand. "Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes that call me on and on across the universe. Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box; they tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe. Jai guru deva om. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Sounds of laughter shades of life are ringing through my open ears exciting and inviting me. Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns, it calls me on and on across the universe. Jai guru deva om. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Nothing's gonna change my world. Jai guru deva. Jai guru deva."

**Author's note: **I had to put a Beatles' song in there somewhere! I love them to death, plus I just went to see the movie _Across the Universe _which was a musical with only Beatles' music and it re-kindled my love affaire with their music.


	4. Who the Hell Are You?

**Author's note: **I kinda just realized now that I put Chef in the last chapter, but he's kinda dead… Let's just say that by the power vested in me as the author of this slightly pathetic story I can bring him back… yeah.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own South Park or any of its characters, etc. etc. and all that shit.

**Drowning in Darkness**

**Chapter 4: Who the Hell Are You?**

_Fuck, I gotta go back to school. _The coal-haired boy whacked the snooze button listlessly with his left hand as he turned over to bury his head in the comforting warmth of his pillow. _Damn, that means I can't see Kyle until like, 3:30! I never noticed how much I like the smell of my pillow…_

"Stanley! Hurry up or you'll be late for school!" Sharon called up the stairs.

Stan groaned and made a move to get out of his bed. "Whatever, Mom," he called back.

Dragging his feet as he went, Stan managed to shuffle to the kitchen for some toast and orange juice. Shelly slipped in next to him and gave him a look of disgust.

"What the hell is you problem Shelly?" Stan angrily shot at her as he followed his last piece of toast with a gulp of orange juice.

"Nothin' turd, I just don't like you," Shelly spat all over the table as she talked and, though not looking directly at her little brother, still managed to get some on his reddening face.

"Shelly, that's not a nice way to talk to your brother!" Sharon scolded, brow creased in slight annoyance with her uncompassionate daughter.

"Whatever," Shelly concentrated on her bowl of cereal floating in an ocean of milk.

"Not 'whatever' young lady, you apologize to- oh," Sharon commenced before realizing her son had already left the table to return to his room.

Pulling on his usual outfit of jeans, white t-shirt, brown jacket with red trim, and red poof-ball hat, he scrambled to gather his homework (unfinished, I feel inclined to add) and headed out towards the bus stop. He was pretty punctual about his daily routine and that's just the way he liked it. It gave him enough time with his friends without completely loosing it with Cartman, school of course, and optimum time with Kyle.

Sighing, he stepped into the cold mountain air that nipped at his cheeks and nose; he commenced his trek towards the bus stop. He saw an orange blob and much larger red blob to its immediate left. Proceeding closer, Stan could hear them talking about something idiotic and totally pointless.

"Hey guys," the young Marsh boy greeted Kenny McCormick and bigoted Erick Cartman.

"Hey fag, no Jew-boy today?" Cartman poked-humor at the already aggravated blue-eyed boy. Stan was in no mood to deal with Cartman, but then again, who ever was?

"Cartman shut the fuck up! Incase you don't remember HE'S IN A FUCKING COMA!" Stan shouted and fumed bitterly.

"Jesus Stan, you're almost as touchy as the stupid Jew you're defending," Cartman antagonized farther, having way too much fun with this to stop.

Stan's temper flared, but was reined in quickly. "Look Cartman, I can't deal with you. You are a stupid fuck-faced loser who has no friends and for good reasons! If you think being a huge ass for the rest of your life is gonna get you anywhere then you are grossly mistaken. That's all I have to say before I don't speak to you for the rest of the day."

Cartman produced a weird sort of what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-_you _kind of look before he spat, "You are no fun, Stan, you fuckin' pusseh!"

Kenny offered a sympathetic look before the bus pulled up to take them to South Park Elementary for another day of unfulfilled "learning". Hopping up the stairs and resuming their usual seats on the bus, Stan felt slightly isolated and lonely. Cartman and Kenny sat together and he and (no)Kyle sat together. He sighed and slumped farther down into his seat, his gaze set firmly at the seat in front of him.

At school, Stan felt even worse; the empty desk next to his was a constant reminder that his best friend in the world was not at his side. Many rumors had spread across the school to what Kyle was sick with, many of which were fake "Jew-related" illnesses to which credit could be traced to the anti-Semitic Cartman.

All rumors were laid to rest when Mrs. Garrison spoke up after the bell that brought them to class. "Alright, settle down children. Now, you may have noticed that Kyle Broflovski is not here today. He is sick."

"With tay-sachs!" Cartman yelled out, though none of the other children fully comprehended the relation of Kyle with tay-sachs.

"Erick! That is very inappropriate!" Scolded their balding teacher.

"Fucking Jew," the fatass mumbled under his breath, but said nothing more.

She glared at Cartman before continuing," Kyle is in a diabetic coma, I think we should make him a card. You could put stuff like, I dunno, pull out soon, or something along that line. Just keep yourselves busy for the next hour or so." She waved her hand at the children and supplied a large piece of paper on which to draw before returning to her lesbian porno.

The children approached Butters with a glint in their eyes. "Nuh uhn fellahs, not again!" Butters wailed, remembering another time when Kyle was sick and they made _him _the get-well card.

After chasing Butters for a good long time, they elected not to ambush him with sparkles and glue. They instead put forth their creative energy to the blank piece of paper in front of them.

"What's the point of making a card if stupid Jew-boy won't even be able to see it?" Cartman whined.

"It's the thought that counts, douche bag, and his family will probably appreciate it." Stan's eyebrows creased in anger for what could only be the millionth time.

"Who cares about that stupid bitch anyway?" Cartman went on.

"Erick shut up and just help make the fucking card!" Mrs. Garrison looked up from her porn. "Jesus, why do they have to be so argumentative?" She mumbled under her breath.

"Fhine," Cartman pouted and then added, "Bitch," quietly as he picked up a large black marker and scribbled _HOPE YOU DIE KYLE _in big bold letters on the inside.

"Cartman!" Stan fumed. "Goddmanit, I hate you so much."

Using almost an entire container of white-out, Stan managed to erase the fatass' ill wishes to his best friend. The card was finished and was beautiful, in a fifth-grade-kinda-ugly-but-at-least-they-tried kind of way. Stan was happy –relatively speaking- and was sure it would cheer the Broflovskis up.

Suddenly, Principal Victoria's voice rand over the PA, "Mrs. Garrison, could you send Stan Marsh to the office please? He has a phone call."

Stan's heart beat at an incredible rate, fearing something terrible had happened to Kyle. He raced from the classroom before his teacher could say a word. Adrenaline pumping wildly though his veins caused him to arrive at the principal's office in mere seconds.

"I'm," pant, "here." Stan huffed as he entered, his heart never ceasing.

"Sheila Broflovski is on the line for you, mmkay?" Mr. Mackey handed him the phone.

"H-hello?" Stan voice trembled.

"Stanley," Sheila's voice rang happiness and calmed his heart, but only for a second. "Kyle's awake! You must come down here at once. I've sent Gerald to pick you up, he should be there soon."

"That's great!" Stan couldn't be happier; he was so excited to get his best friend back.

"There's just one thing, Stanley, Kyle can't remember anybody." Sheila's voice made Stan's heart drop so far he could have sworn it reached the steamy pits of Hell.


	5. Awake and Dreaming

**Disclaimer: **I don't own South Park or any of its characters, etc. etc. and all that shit. The kick-ass Beatles' song that I put in there is also not mine, it's copyright the Beatles yadda yadda, everyone's happy.

**Drowning in Darkness**

**Chapter 5: Awake and Dreaming**

"Kyle?" Stan ventured tentatively, standing in the doorway of a hospital room he had become well acquainted with. His friend glanced at him with shining emerald eyes. "Kyle!" He ran to his now-conscious friend, wrapping him in a loving embrace.

"Who are you?" Kyle asked as he was nearly crushed in Stan's arms.

A pang of hurt rushed through his body. "She was right, you _don't _remember anybody." He hastily dropped his arms to his sides and his eyes started to cloud with tears.

"Should I remember? What are you talking about?" Kyle was physically better, but he had no idea where he was, who anyone was, why he was there, even what year it was!

"I can't believe it, I'm your best friend! It's me, Stan." Stan locked his hurt gaze with Kyle's confused one. "I'm your _super _best friend. Don't you remember?"

"…I'm sorry, I just don't." Stan ran for the door and tears flowed silently out.

Stan plopped down on the most uncomfortable chair in the hospital sitting room. He buried his face in his gloved hands and wept. _My best friend doesn't even remember who I am. He doesn't remember how much I love him. _Feeling a hand grasp his shoulder Stan looked up to see Mr. Broflovski.

"It's going to be okay, Stan, the doctors said that this is probably temporary and he just needs something to jog his memory. He'll come around."

Stan sniffed; eyes puffy and red hiding his beautiful blue hues, looked up at his best friend's dad. "How do you know?"

"Hey, uh, Mom?" Kyle felt awkward calling a complete 'stranger' Mom.

"Yes, buhbee."

"Can I see that, um… What's his name? Stan, I think."

"Stanley? Certainly, I'll go out and get him." Sheila left the room and Kyle was alone with his thoughts, but not for long. His mother returned with a pathetic looking blue-caped child.

"H-hey dude," he hiccupped, not sure if he would start crying again.

"Hey," Kyle smiled supportively out of his good-natured mannerisms. "Could I have some time alone with Stan?" Kyle looked up at his parents.

"Sure thing, we'll be back in a bit," Mrs. Broflovski came over and hugged him lovingly even though he didn't hug back. As they left the room, Stan could hear Sheila start to cry.

Sitting on the side of Kyle's bed, Stan spoke. "I can't believe you don't remember anything; not one single thing."

"Look, I'm sorry dude, but this seems kind of weird, I mean, I don't know you."

"No! You just don't remember!" Stan's voice rose as he looked up at him, but any anger quickly drained looking into Kyle's forest green eyes which had always accompanied his ocean blue ones. "You don't remember how much I love you."

Kyle was genuinely sorry; he felt something for this boy of whom he could not remember and apparently he meant a lot to him. Maybe the logical part of his brain didn't remember him, but many of his emotions were still in tact.

"I wish I could remember," was all Kyle could say before he found it too hard to look at Stan anymore.

"Right now, that's the only thing I wish could happen," Stan sympathized and put his hand on Kyle's shoulder.

Kyle's heart fluttered when Stan touched him_, am I gay? _He thought, blushing slightly and looking away from Stan.

_His heart remembers., _Stan smiled to himself, _what does his heart remember? He never said he had a boner for me or anything, just wistful thinking. _Stan sighed and removed his hand from Kyle's shoulder.

"So, um, Mom, I guess, said I could go home soon," Kyle sounded like he was asking a question when he said 'mom'.

"That's great, Ky! Maybe something at home will jog your memory and everything will come back!" Stan jumped up excitedly.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up. So far I've seen my so-called mother, father, brother, and best friend but I don't remember anything," Kyle sighed in desperation as well as frustration. "It's just not fair, dude."

"I know, man, I know." Stan felt an absolute need to draw Kyle in for another hug. Kyle hugged back.

Back at home Kyle soon found he was correct; nothing had jogged his memory, much to the disappointment of his family, himself, and most of all Stan. His bedroom seemed so foreign to him, the living room, kitchen, it was like he was seeing everything for the first time. He did retain some memory, though; he remembered he was Jewish and everything that went along with that like speaking Hebrew, he remembered the basic stuff like how to read and write, but not much else.

"So dude, bringin' anything back?" Stan asked hopefully, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Not a thing." Kyle uncomfortable slumped in his bed, Stan sprawled on the floor.

Silence griped the room and Stan thought of something that might bring him back. "Words are flying out like endless rain into a paper cup. They slither while they pass-"

"They slip away across the universe," Kyle finished in perfect harmony with the correct words to the song Stan had just begun.

"How did you know the words? Are you remembering stuff?" Stan propped himself up on his elbows hopefully.

"No, I don't even know how I know that song."

"I sung that to you in the hospital, while you were in the coma." Stan flopped over on his back again.

"It's nice to know someone cared that much about me," Kyle mused, staring blankly at his ceiling.

"Lot's of people care for you, Kyle." Stan intended to elaborate, but was interrupted by the opening of his friend's door.

"Hope you don't mind if I crash your butt-fucking party, fags," Cartman's voice rang through Kyle's room.

"But he's not one of them," Stan seethed.

"Who's that?" Kyle cocked his head.

"Who am I? Who am _I_? Wow, you suck at everything Jew-boy."

"Shut the fuck up!" Stan defended his friend.

"Shut up Cartman!" Kyle yelled. "Cartman?" He blinked, rather stunned that he had yelled a name at this complete stranger. "Is that your name?"

"Um, DUH! Where the hell 'ave you been?"

"Kyle, you remember." Stan's eyes glistened hope.

"No, just reflex, I guess." But Stan knew that he remembered somewhere deep inside of him, he just needed one thing to bring him back.

Kenny mumbled something. "What did he say?" Kyle questioned.

"He said 'I hope you remember soon because we miss you'," Stan quoted.

"Oh," Kyle blushed slightly, feeling bad he couldn't understand the person inside the little orange parka. "Thanks."

"Are you coming to school tomorrow?" Cartman asked.

"I don't think so," Kyle sighed, not remembering anything about his school.

"Yeah, I don't think that would be a good idea, seeing as how he can't remember anything," Stan said scowling at Cartman.

"I was just wondering if maybe when he came back to school he'd remember how much of a dumbass he was," Cartman joked.

"I was?" Kyle questioned, rather disappointed.

Stan sighed. "No you weren't, _aren't,_" he corrected, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes tight. "You're like, the smartest guy in our class, he's just jealous 'cause he's a dumb fuck and his mother's a whore."

"Aye!" Cartman exclaimed, "Shut up, my mother is not a whore! Screw you guys, I'm goin' home. C'mon Kenny."

"Wow," Kyle stated after Kenny and the fatass left, "Total déjà vù. Does he say that a lot?"

Stan chuckled, "Yeah, he's such a baby."

_Kyle's young, very young; in kindergarten, actually. He spots a dark-haired little boy with a gigantic chocolate chip cookie. Noticing someone was looking at him, a five-year-old Stan Marsh walks up to five-year-old Kyle Broflovski. _

"_You want some?" He asks politely, ripping off almost half of his cookie and offering it to the other kid._

"_Okay." Kyle happily grabs it and munches with his new friend._

_After they finished their snack, then went on to finger painting. Feeling the colours in their fingers and making abstract expressions of their daily lives on paper. Stan, of course, was seated right next to his new friend; both of them smiling without a care in the world._

Then Kyle wakes up. "Was that a memory or just a dream?" Kyle whispered to himself as he sat up in bed. "If that was a memory, I must have known that Stan guy for a long time." This made him feel worse; if he had known Stan since kindergarten, that would be close to six years that they had been friends, apparently the very best. He drifted back to sleep and made a note to ask someone if he and Stan had gone to kindergarten together.

The next day, Kyle woke up feeling rested. The smell of pancakes wafted from the kitchen to his room. Hurriedly, Kyle jumped out of bed and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. His mouth watered at the sight of stacked pancakes with sugar-free syrup waiting for him.

Grabbing a plate off the counter, he pilled his plate with perfect, fluffy, fattening pancakes. He doused them with watery, sugar-free syrup before digging in. Slowly at first, but after realizing just how good they were, he didn't want to stop.

"Take it easy, Kyle, there's no hurry. You're just staying home today," Mrs. Broflovski told him as he gulped down two more pancakes. "And don't forget to take your insulin."

"My what?" Kyle asked. His diabetes was not something he remembered.

Sheila's heart sank, she didn't want to have to tell her son that he had diabetes for a second time, but that was the case. "Kyle honey," she took a deep breath before continuing on, "you have type-one diabetes, you have to take insulin before or after every meal."

"Oh." Kyle was a bit shocked and scared. "So, where is the needle I have to take?"

"Just finish your breakfast and I'll show you everything after you're all done."

After showing her son what the insulin needle was and how to use it, she opened up an old photo album in hopes he'd remember something or someone.

"It's me and Stan in kindergarten!" Kyle pointed excitedly at a class picture of his kindergarten peers.

"Yes Kyle, very good."

"I had a dream about kindergarten last night, and Stan gave me his cookie. So, it must have been a memory." A tiny shred of hope appeared in his voice. "I can't wait to tell Stan."

"That's so adorable; even though you don't remember who Stan is you act like did before you went into the coma." Sheila was both happy and a bit jealous that her son who she babied to no end remembered his friend before his mother. But it was a start and she decided that that was good enough for now.

"Really? I know he said that we were like, best friends -actually I think he said 'super best friends' whatever that means- but he never really told me the way we were." Kyle wondered what kind of friend he was and what kind of friend Stan was. He decided that Stan couldn't be anything like Cartman, the most insensitive person he had ever known, but he must have been a good friend.

"Oh yes, you two were inseparable," she annunciated clearly. "You practically shared a brain; you knew what he was thinking and he knew what you were thinking without passing a single word."

"Huh," Kyle muttered, slightly detached from his mother as he ran his fingers over the picture. "I feel so bad."

"Oh, don't feel bad, buhbee," Mrs. Broflovski pulled her son close and kissed his cheek. "It will come back."  
"I hope so," Kyle muttered as he leafed through the rest of the photo album. Almost every photo had himself and Stan pictured either in the foreground or the background smiling happily or playing. It was painfully mesmerizing to gaze at pictures taken only a few months ago.

When it became too painful, Kyle asked if he could go for a walk.

"But Kyle, what if you get lost? How about I come with you, or you can wait until Stanley gets out of school," his mother pleaded.

"I think I need some time alone and this is a small enough town I'm sure it's hard to get lost in," he reasoned. "And besides, Stan won't get out until way later; it's only 10 in the morning."

Sheila sighed, "How about I take you down to Starks Pond and you can wonder around there? I'll wait for you in the car. I just don't want you getting hurt or lost."

"Is Starks Pond far?" He questioned.

"No, not really."

"Well, then why don't I just walk?"

"I've already told you Kyle, I don't want you getting hurt or lost!" Sheila's voice rose slightly.

"Fine, whatever, I'll go to my room then." Kyle, frustrated and rather peeved at his overprotective mother, strode back to his room.

He noticed that he was still clad in his pajamas and elected to have a nap since there was nothing better to do. _Maybe I'll have another memory-dream, _Kyle thought eagerly and he pulled the covers over his head. He wasn't really tired, but sleep was better than constantly being reminded that he has been plagued with memory loss.

_Kyle is sick, really sick. He's missed almost two whole weeks form school and he can't stop throwing up. His mother drags him to a New Age healing clinic which only makes things worse. He needs a new kidney and Cartman –his only match- won't give him one of his. Stan saves the day by cleverly forcing Cartman to sign a release form for the surgery. _The dream was blurred and missing parts to it, but it summarized a small section of his life and how Stan was so upset and determined. This dream/memory got blended, as dreams often do, with another dream/memory. _Kyle, Stan, Cartman, and Kenny all join the new cult of "Blaintology", worshiping street magician David Blain. Stan gets creeped out and leaves his three other friends in the cult. The plan is to commit mass-suicide in Washington DC in the Reflecting Pool. Kyle realizes it's that the cult is evil, but it's almost too late. Then, Stan saves him and they both recognize each other as "super best-friends"._

"_That's _what he meant by super best-friend!" Kyle exclaimed as he shot up in bed. Now he really couldn't wait to talk to Stan. He didn't really remember everything he dreamt, but maybe the more he talked about it, the more he'd remember.

**Author's note: **I don't know if the dreams seem kind of rushed or anything, but if they do please tell me. That's something I really need to work on in my writing.


	6. Not the Same

**Drowning in Darkness**

**Chapter 6: Not the Same**

"Stan! Dude, I'm glad you came by," Kyle said when he answered the door. He had been waiting most of the day for Stan to get off school. "I've got some exciting news."

"Oh yeah? Are you remembering things?" Stan was eager to hear what his friend had to say that was so exciting. Stan had unwavering hope that his friend would regain his memory soon.

"I know what you mean by 'super best-friend'." Stan followed Kyle into a house that he was far more familiar with than his Jewish friend who _actually _lived there.

"You remember?" Stan's heart beat uncontrollably.

"Um, not exactly." Kyle's words quite nearly broke Stan's heart. "But I had a dream, well, a few dreams. One of them was that we were in kindergarten and you gave me part of your cookie, and another when I was really sick or something. And then there was a weird one about some cult or something and at the end you said I was your super best-friend and I said that you were mine."

Stan's head was down and he sighed loudly before he spoke. "Those things did happen, Ky, but they're just dreams, right? I mean, you don't remember them actually happening, do you?"

The confused young Jew touched his best friend's shoulder in a futile attempt to comfort him. "No, I'm sorry dude, they were just dreams, but if they're dreams about something that actually happened then some part of me must remember, right?" Stan looked at him and a supportive smile was plastered on Kyle's paleish face.

"Yeah, you're right, dude; something'll bring you back." An awkward silence spread between them and Stan thought of something. "Hey, you wanna go to Stark's Pond?"

"Yeah, sure," Kyle replied a bit enthusiastically. "I'm goin' out with Stan, Mom!" Kyle called before tightly closing the front door.

"Have fun, and be careful Kyle!" Mrs. Broflovski cautioned her son.

Stan and Kyle treaded through the freshly fallen snow towards the all-too-familiar pond –well, all too-familiar for Stan, anyway. The snow was still falling, forming a beautiful, powdery scene that neither boy noticed on account of the fact that their gazes were stuck to the snow covered pavement in front of them. They had no idea what to say, what to do, if they should do or say anything at all.

Then Stan broke the silence, "You'll like, always be my best friend, dude."

"Sure Stan."

_Ouch._

Kyle sighed as he glanced over just in time to see Stan wince. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that. It's just hard to say someone's your best friend when you don't even really know them." They walked the rest of the way in silence.

Once at Stark's Pond, the silence only deepened. It wasn't awkward; both boys' thoughts were elsewhere, but in the same place all at the same time. Both were thinking of their current life state, not something ten-year-olds do very often, or not to the extent these two were. They had much to contemplate; Kyle's memory, their relationships with one another, how their lives would change if Kyle never did get his memory back.

They sat down on a bench and stared at the frozen pond. Stan recalled the countless times they skated or had snowball fights or built snowmen. He sighed and glanced over at Kyle who was deep in thought as well. Stan wondered what he was thinking and wished he was thinking about him…

_Ew! That is so gay! _Stan was still attempting to fight his infatuation with Kyle. _Goddamnit, I can't love Kyle…But I do. _Stan was losing the battle of his attraction to Kyle and he glanced over at the auburn-haired young Jew only to quickly avert his gaze to the fluffy whiteness in front of him.

"What were we like?" Kyle pondered out loud, seemingly out of nowhere.

"We were best friends, dude," Stan answered simply.

"I know, I know, but I mean, like-"

"You don't know what you mean, do you?" A tiny smile tweaked the corners of Stan's mouth, he _still _knew what Kyle was thinking, he always would.

Kyle sighed, slightly frustrated. "No, I have no idea what I mean, but you do." Kyle voice took on a slightly more serious tone.

"Yeah I do. We were the way best friends should be; we finished each others sentences, we communicated without talking, we spent almost every second together, we did everything together, and if you were sick I'd be there for you and probably catch whatever you got if it was contagious. And we saved each other's asses from time to time." _Sexy ass… GODDAMNIT! SHUT THE FUCK UP! _Stan cursed loudly in his head.

"Oh," Kyle glanced over to see Stan's smirk wipe clear off his face as he seemed to be losing some inner battle unknown to Kyle.

They returned to a slightly more awkward silence than before. Stan wanted his best friend back more than anything in the world. It was hard to believe that just that passed week they had been the way they had been playing and generally just being boys, they were normal and their relationship was thriving. But now, everything had changed.

Kyle reached over and wrapped his green gloves around Stan's red ones, not knowing why, he just did it. _I want to comfort him, that's all. _ "It'll be alright, I promise." Stan looked down at their hands, then up at his friend.

"I believe you." Something in Kyle's eyes told Stan that he wasn't lying and that he would never lie to his best friend, even though he couldn't remember that they were, infact, best friends.

_Stan and Kyle were paired up and taking care of an egg. There's a bit of tension that Kyle didn't quite understand; something about a black-haired girl and Stan and the egg that they ended up taking care of. Their egg "dies" but not really because Kyle lied to Stan and gave him a different egg. They have a crazy race to find Mrs. Garrison and prove that they kept their egg safe. _

_An egg? WTF? We were paired up and were taking care of an…egg? Really? _Kyle wondered as he started through the darkness of the night at his ceiling. He rolled over, '12:30 am' read his clock. _I wonder if that happened too. I bet it did, everything else I've dreamt of has. Might as well go back to sleep, maybe I'll have more dreams. _Kyle hoped yet again.

No such luck. Kyle awoke barely rested and with no greater knowledge of what was once his life other than the weird egg dream. He wanted to go to school that day, but his mother didn't think it was such a good idea.

"Not yet, boobela, just wait until your memory comes back."

"But what if that isn't for months! I'll fall really far behind," fretted Kyle.

"You'll be fine, dear; we don't need to talk about it now." Sheila ended the conversation right there.

Kyle's day was filled with fruitless attempts at recalling even one memory. It seemed the harder he tried, the farther his goal slipped away. Just one, he'd be alright with just one memory. The dreams didn't exactly count because he didn't _remember _them, they just seemed like dreams to him.

That day seemed to drag by even slower than the one before it. Nothing good was on television, his mother hardly ever left him alone, and he didn't feel at home in his own house. He was starting to get very familiar with his room, spending almost every waking moment that was not spent with Stan in there.

He sighed and flopped over on his bed and stole a glace at his alarm clock. _10:45 am, it's not even noon yet. Wow, I'm pathetic, I have nothing to do. _He swung his legs over the side of the bed listlessly slide off. Walking over to his window he kept his eyes on the scene below; snow, just snow, but it was falling –which seemed like a never-ending scene in the small mountain town- so pristinely and made everything appear clean and beautiful. He raised a bare hand to the window and placed it on the cold glass, leaving a hand print.

Back at school Stan was feeling lost without his best friend. He still had Kenny, but it wasn't the same, and fatass didn't even come close; he didn't know why he still hung out with him, but so it was that he did.

"Where's faggy Jew-boy today, Stan?" He asked casually, trying to get Stan going.

"Shut up, fat-fuck, you know where he is," Stan replied, slightly distracted. They were in PE playing Basketball, Kyle's favourite sport. "Goddamn," he mumbled as he stared at the textured orange sphere that he held in his hands, it reminded him of Kyle.

"Whatever, ass-rammer," Cartman retorted and yanked the ball from Stan's grasp and laughed mockingly in his face.

"Go to hell Cartman!" Stan screamed after him, but didn't feel like chasing him; he just tipped his gaze downwards and stared at the polished gym floors, thinking about Kyle and how much more fun this would be if he were here to be his partner.

"Hu-heya Stan," Butters greeted in his traditional stutter. "How's it goin'?" He questioned and rubbed his knuckles together.

"Fine, Butters," Stan replied, jaw clenched. He was still mad at Cartman, not just for stealing his ball or ripping on Kyle just now, but for everything he'd done. Stan cared so deeply about his friend and all Cartman could do was crack jokes.

"H-how's Kyle doing?" Butters was still rubbing his knuckles furiously together.

"He's alright." Stan tried to force a smile and just barley managed to pull one off.

"Oh, 'cause uh I haven't seen him in school for a while and I was just wonderin' how he's been holdin' up."

"He's fine," Stan replied forcefully and slightly defensively. Butters took the hint to step off and he returned to passing the orange ball around with Kenny.

Stan dragged himself off the court and sat down on a bench. He was supposed to be doing Basketball drills with Cartman, but he wasn't exactly sure where the fat boy had gone, nor did he really give a fuck.

Finally school came to an end and Stan rushed over to the Broflovski's to greet Kyle. Ms. Garrison gave him some homework to give to Kyle so that maybe he wouldn't fall too far behind.

Stan rang the doorbell and soon after, Kyle appeared. "Hey," he greeted from inside his house.

"Hey," Stan returned and followed Kyle back inside. "I brought you some homework." He pulled a small trapper keeper from his bag. It was pretty full and contained every school subject that Ms. Garrison taught them.

"Thanks, I think," Kyle giggled as he took the trapper keeper from Stan and leafed through it.

"Do you want any help with it?" Stan wasn't exactly the smartest kid in the class, but he figured he knew a thing or two more than Kyle at this moment.

They plodded up the stairs to Kyle's room and lay splayed out on his floor side by side. They were working on fractions, Stan absolutely loathed fractions. Good thing Kyle didn't.

"Okay, you just have to find the common denominator and multiply the numerator by the same thing as you did to get the common denominator," Kyle explained to an utterly and hopelessly confused Stan.

"Um, I think I get it." It came out sounding more like a question than a statement. "Dude, this is so wrong; _I _should be the one helping _you,_"Stan laughed a bit in spite of himself.

"At least I can do something." Desperation clung to Kyle's words.

"You'll remember everything eventually, you can do all kinds of things, dude." Stan put a comforting arm around Kyle's shoulder. "I love you." _Fuck! Why the hell did I say that? I have to cover it up some how…_

"What?" Kyle seemed shocked, but rather pleased.

"Um, I just thought that maybe if I shocked you then your memory would come back. I don't love you, dude, that's totally gay."

"Oh, yeah dude, totally gay," Kyle seemed a little disappointed, but Stan didn't want to get his hopes up… _Hopes up for what? I don't love Kyle. _Still in denial.

**Author's note: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed or faved my story. I'm kinda self conscious about my writing, so that definitely boosts my confidence. I'm thinking there's only another two or three chapters left. I'm hoping to wrap it up, but not have it end too abruptly.


	7. What have I done?

**Drowning in Darkness**

**Chapter 7: What have I done? **

The next few days passed uneventfully, and soon enough it was Friday evening once again. Friday was usually one of Stan's favourite days, but now it only reminded him of the day Kyle fell into that fateful coma. He poked at his potatoes as he pondered if Kyle's memory would ever come back.

"Stanley, what's the matter? You've hardly eaten anything," Sharon remarked and took another bite of her stake.

"I'm just worried about Kyle, that's all. Can I be excused?" Stan solemnly replied, keeping his eyes glued to the table.

"You haven't eaten much son," Randy piped in.

"I'm not hungry Dad." Stan continued to poke and prod at his supper.

"Fine Stanley, but you'll have to eat something more tonight," Sharon dismissed her son from the table.

After Stan was excused from the table he went to his room and started playing his guitar. Even that reminded him of Kyle, but it was good memories and feelings so he kept playing. He played nothing in particular, just kept making beautiful sounds with the acoustic guitar with which he had become much more familiar with over the past year and thinking about his friend when the phone rang downstairs.

Kyle, like Stan, hadn't eaten much of his supper. He sulked in his room for a bit then migrated to the living room to sulk some more.

"Kyle play!" Ike poked at him as he lay face down on their couch.

"Not now, um, Ike." He momentarily forgot his brother's name.

Ike mumbled disappointed, broken phrases as he left the room. Kyle almost felt bad, but was too pre-occupied with his thoughts to really care.

He was thinking more and more of Stan; _he's my best-friend, right? I _should _think of him…right? _But he knew that he was in love with his alleged best-friend, or at least as much in love as an almost-twelve-year-old could be. He knew it was wrong, but he really didn't care, not like he had much going for him. He felt the constant need to be reminded that he wouldn't be like this forever –that is, without memory- but he still felt hopeless and out of place.

_Maybe I'll call Stan and ask to go to a movie or something. Friends go to movies, right? So, it wouldn't seem like I'm asking him on a date; which it definitely wouldn't be, as much as I want it to be. _Kyle didn't care to fight his feelings like Stan did; he knew it wouldn't make it go away.

So he picked up the phone and dialed Stan's number… after he looked it up.

Stan knew it was Kyle before his mother called up to him saying that the phone was for him; let's call it _best-friend telepathy._

"Hey, what's up dude?" Stan greeted.

"Not much, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to a movie or something tomorrow." Kyle's heart was racing, but he tried to keep himself under control.

Stan's heart skipped a beat. _Why does it keep doing that? He's just my best friend. _"Yeah, sure thing, there's not much on, though." Stan tried to sound collected.

There was a pause on the other end for a moment. Then Kyle asked, "Well, do you know what is on?"

"Hmm, I guess we could go see _One Missed Call, _I heard it's really scary," Stan suggested.

"Alright, sounds good. Um, Stan?"

"Yeah Kyle."

"Where is the movie theater?" Kyle chuckled nervously, fearing it sounded stupider out load then it did in his head.

"Just in town," Stan replied.

"…"

"You haven't been in town yet?" Stan was rather surprised.

"No, Mom is really worried about me and she just makes me look at old photo albums all day," Kyle sighed.

"That sucks. We can walk down tomorrow; I'll come by your house and pick you up, okay?"

"Yeah sure, see you tomorrow." Kyle's excitement mounted at the thought of going in to town with Stan and seeing a movie.

"Bye," Stan said and lingered on the line just long enough to hear Kyle hang up.

"Mom," Kyle started as he walked into the kitchen. "Can I go to the movies with Stan tomorrow?"

Mrs. Broflovski thought for a moment. "I don't know, Kyle, you still don't have your memory back and you might get lost."

"I'll be with Stan," Kyle pleaded. "And me sitting in this house looking at the same photo albums everyday isn't helping me get my memory back!" His shrill voice rose.

Sheila sighed. Kyle's memory lose was taking a lot out of her, she had all the more to worry about now and even though he called her 'mom' she didn't feel the love or affection. She was a strong woman, but didn't feel like arguing this time. "Alright Kyle, you can go. You can't let Stanley out of your sight and don't be gone too long." She was acting like they lived in a dangerous city, not a quiet- okay, not actually that quiet, but could be worse- town.

The next day Stan came by Kyle's house to pick him up.

"Ready to go?" the raven-haired boy asked as Kyle opened the door.

"Yep," he smiled widely. "Bye Mom!"

"Bye buhby, have fun and be careful!" Sheila called after the boys.

When they were out of sight of the Broflovski house Kyle let out an enormous sigh. "I can't stand it much longer, she's driving me crazy! She's incessantly prodding me with stupid questions and is way over protective!" Kyle ranted.

As the flustered red-head continued his rant, Stan paid absolutely no attention to what he was saying. All he could think about was how much he wanted to hold Kyle's hand. How much he wanted to embrace him, kiss him, love him… It was getting harder and harder for Stan to ignore these feelings of fondness passed friendship for which he felt about Kyle.

He was about to reach out an envelop Kyle's hand in his own when- "Stan," Kyle's voice softened a bit and interrupted both his friend's train of thought and his current action.

"Huh?" Stan retracted his hand lightning fast.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" Kyle's voice rose a bit, but as soon as he saw Stan's remorseful expression he melted. He hadn't seemed to notice that Stan's hand had been dangerously close to his own mere seconds ago.

"Sorry, dude, I was just thinking about stuff." Stan's cheeks took on a pink hue.

Kyle smirked, "What kinda stuff?"

The pink in Stan's cheeks deepened, "N-nothing," he chuckled nervously.

"Whatever."

They got to the movie theater, ordered a large popcorn to share, and settled themselves in the middle row. They munched happily at the buttered popcorn and waited for the movie to start.

It was about an hour and a half of the least scary movie either of them had ever seen. They had actually begun to laugh hysterically during the scene at the end in which a 'living' corpse chases the girl through the vents in the burnt down hospital. This laughter was greeted by shouts of "Shut the fuck up!" and "Why don't you kids shut your goddamn mouths!" by the others watching the movie. They were un-phased by this and left the theater in stitches when the movie finished.

"That was funny!" Kyle said after calming his laughter.

"Yeah, I can't believe people actually thought that was scary!" Stan's words sparked another fit of giggles from the boys.

Stan began to walk away assuming Kyle would follow, when he felt a rand reach for his own. "Kyle?" He turned to see two emerald-green eyes smiling back at him.

"Um, Stan is it okay if I hold your hand?" These words shocked Stan; maybe Kyle _had _noticed his attempt to hold his crush's (_best friend's hand, BEST FRIEND_, Stan told himself, though the thought was not as strong as it once was) hand.

"Just, just 'cause I-"

"_Because_," a winy voice came, "he has a huge ass-ramming crush on you. You're like, the only one who can't see it."

"Shut up fat boy!" Stan hollered. He was not vexed at the intended insult itself, but more at the fact that he had ruined their moment. Small moment, but he still took it away.

Kyle only reddened and shrunk into himself as far as he could. He wanted to lash out and beat Cartman to the ground, but he feared he might say or do something he would regret.

"Why should I fag?" He crossed his arms and donned a smug look.

"I am not a fag!" Stan felt more defensive because he was in fact considering that he might be gay and if Cartman knew then all life as he knew it would come to an end, he would die a terrible social death. "Why can't you just leave us alone Cartman?" Rage was quite evident in Stan's voice.

"But you guys are so fun to tease!" He wined even more pathetically than before.

"Just fuck off, fatass!" Kyle spoke up, tired of standing by.

"Whoa-ho, the stupid memory ridden Jew decided to speak up." Cartman offered a mock expression of surprise and horror.

"'C'mon Kyle, let's get outta here," Stan offered and turned his back to the fat boy.

"Sure, just a minute I gotta take care of something first," Kyle responded.

"Wha-?" Stan wiped his head around fast enough to see Kyle sock Cartman right in his fat face.

"Aye! That fuckin' hurt!" He called as Kyle commenced running away from a pissed off Eric Cartman. He feebly attempted to chase them, but to no avail, they were fast and he was fat and lazy.

"Dude, that was amazing!" Stan panted after they were sure Cartman was far away.

"I can't stand him!" Kyle fumed as he caught his breath. Kyle took a brief glance around and for once more or less recognized where he was. "Hey, we're near Stark's Pond aren't we?"

"Yeah, it's not that far. Wanna go?" Stan queried.

"Sure!" Kyle jumped at the prospect of spending more time with Stan.

They made it to Stark's Pond in no time and found a bench to sit on. The place was deserted, not a soul in sight. This made Stan a bit fidgety; he'd been alone with Kyle before, but not alone with Kyle recently. Not since he'd started feeling the way he had and recognizing that feeling.

"You alright Stan?" Kyle asked, noticing a change in his friend's behavior.

"Yeah, it's cool dude." He offered a forced smile. "I was just wondering what you were gonna say, you know, before Cartman came."

"Oh." Kyle's heart nearly exploded. "Um, I just-" _now or never, _"I really like you Stan."

_Holy shit, holy shit, holy fucking shit! This is amazing! _Stan thought, then he paled, _what if he's just confused and he doesn't know how to feel or maybe he knows I like him and is trying to cheer me up or something. Or worse, maybe he pities me… I can't let him know, it's for his own good._

"Like, a whole lot Stan. I-I think I'm in love with you." Kyle stared only at the snow with which occupied his feet.

"Um, Kyle I-" He was tempted to divulge that his feelings were reciprocated, but he reminded himself that that may not be his true feelings. "I think you're confused. You probably won't even have those feelings when you get your memory back. You don't know how you feel."

"_I _don't know how I feel? I'm pretty sure I know how I feel; I think it's _you _who doesn't know how I feel. How can you tell me how I do or don't feel?" Kyle was peeved. "Stan, I know you feel it too, don't even deny it. I saw when you tried to hold my hand and the way you look at me sometimes. I look at you the same way, I just know, okay?"

"No! You don't know anything!" Stan felt the threat of tears well up in a hot lump in his throat. He wanted so badly to submit to Kyle but knew that they'd both only end up getting hurt. "I don't love you!"

"Stan..." Kyle whimpered, immensely hurt by Stan's statement.

"Kyle I think we should go home," Stan hoped off the bench.

"Whatever," Kyle's voice took on a solemn tone as he followed behind the raven-haired boy that had broken his heart.

Once at home and in their respective rooms, the boys set about recalling every detail that occurred within the past four or five hours. Neither Sheila nor Sharon could understand why their boys looked so upset. When they asked they got nothing but incomprehensible mutters of sadness from their sons' mouths.

_Why would he do this to me? _Kyle sulked again in his room. _It's not fair, I was so sure. I guess I was wrong…_

_Wow, I totally fucked this up, _Stan thought as he stared blankly at his ceiling. He sighed long and hard, _it's for the better though. I think, anyway. Once his memory comes back he'll probably forget about this passed week. _But Stan couldn't help but scold himself; maybe he had done the wrong thing. _What have I done?_

"Stanley honey, the phone's for you," Sharon called up the stairs.

_It's Kyle, I know it is. _"I'm not here!" He called back.

Silence.

_Maybe she'll just leave me alone. _But that thought was silenced with a knock on his door.

"Stanley, don't be rude. It's Kyle; he wants to tell you something important." Sharon opened the door a crack.

"I don't want to talk to him." Stan flipped on his side so that he faced the wall instead of the ceiling.

"Well, you can tell him that yourself," Sharon said as she threw he son the cordless phone. She left and closed the door behind her.

Stan seriously considered just pressing the off button, but could not refuse the urge to hear Kyle's voice.

"What do you want?" Stan's voice was monotone.

"Stan I love you, I know I do and you know it too. Don't be scared, it'll be-"

"Good bye Kyle." As Stan pulled the phone from his ear he heard Kyle's pleas for him to stay on the phone and talk about it.

Stan was starting to wonder just how much good ignoring his love could do for him.

"Goddamnit Stan," Kyle mumbled to himself as he heard the beep on the other end indicating Stan had ended their call.

_Okay, maybe that wasn't the best approach, but he's bound to come around eventually. At least I hope so. If I just had my memory back this would be way easier. Or maybe one more dream, I haven't had a dream for a while. _Kyle thought and began to contemplate what to do next. Maybe he should just give up, or maybe he should keep trying. He had no choice but the latter, he couldn't live without having Stan to himself so he had to find a way.

_I'll go to his house tomorrow and we'll talk it out, it'll all work out. _Kyle thought confidently. _Well, I hope it does, anyway, _hesitation whipped away his previous confidence. _What am I going to do? _Now, that was a loaded question that Kyle decided to leave unanswered. Unanswered until tomorrow, that is…

**Author's note: **It's been a while, but here it is another chapter. I've been busy so… yeah. Please r&r it makes me happy :)

**Disclaimer: **don't own Kyle, Stan, blah, blah, blah or _One Missed Call, _in all its non-scary glory.


	8. You Bastards!

**Drowning in Darkness**

**Chapter 8: You Bastards!**

_Deep breath man, deep breath I can do this…No, no I can't. _Kyle silently argued with himself as he approached what he'd perceived as his immanent doom; Stan's house. He was going to go up and talk to Stan about his feelings.

_Nope, no I'm not, _he decided and he turned around and went back home. He kicked himself mentally for not being stronger and talking to him, but he just didn't feel ready. Kyle didn't even feel like he deserved a place in Stan's life; he couldn't remember him no matter how many times Stan had told him they were "super best-friends" or knew everything about each other. All he had done was cause trouble for this sweet black-haired boy who cared deeply for him, but apparently not as deeply or in the same way as the confused young Jew did for boy who watched out for him.

At home he sulked in his room. It seemed like that was all he did now. He wondered what he was like before he was in the coma, if he was this sulky and winy all the time, if he and Stan really were best-friends or super best-friends, whatever. All he knew now was that he sulked and missed something, but wasn't sure what it was.

The ever-observant Kenny knew something was wrong, and not just wrong that Kyle still couldn't remember anything. There was something different about he and Stan, Stan seemed to be avoiding him and even looked mad or afraid or awkward whenever Kyle was near. 

Kenny was level-headed and smart enough not to come up with some stupid plan before figuring out what this was really about. He was pretty sure it had to do with Kyle's infatuation with Stan and Stan loving Kyle but not having the balls to tell him, or some shit like that. He elected to call Stan since it was mostly his problem as Kenny perceived it, and he'd been pretty bang-on with all his other theories. 

Kenny's family only had one phone and –shitty as it was- it worked. He picked up the old phone and dialed Stan's house.

"Hey, is Stan there?" Kenny asked Mrs. March politely.

"Sure Kenny, just a minute." Sharon covered one end of the phone with her hand as she called for her son, "Stanley, phone!"

Stan now dreaded calls, fearing it was Kyle and he'd have to deal with emotions he'd rather not. "…Hey," Stan greeted tentatively, heart racing hoping it wasn't Kyle, but also hoping it was.

"Hey dude," Kenny greeted Stan who had never been happier that Kyle wasn't on the other end in his entire life. Part of him wanted it to be Kyle, just so he could hear his voice, but a bigger part just didn't want to deal with it.

"Oh, hi Kenny," Stan breathed relief. "What's up?"

"You."

Stan was puzzled. "Say again?"

"You Stan; you and Kyle, there's something up. Don't think I don't notice." Kenny didn't tip-toe around it, that wasn't his style.

"K-Kenny nothing's going on." Stan was a terrible liar.

"My ass there's nothing going on, Stan. Now, are you gonna tell me what the fuck is going on or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?" Kenny pressed firmly, but no anger showed in his voice.

Stan sighed again, though this time not in relief. He knew Kenny would find out eventually. "Kyle is gay."

"…And?" Kenny pressed farther knowing what would come next.

"And he has a crush on me," Stan finished.

"So, I thought you knew? Like, even before he went into the coma, and I thought you liked him back." Kenny sported a wide smirk; he knew he was right even if Stan denied it. 

"What? No way dude, that's gross!" _Except it's true and Kenny probably knows. No, I don't like Kyle. Goddamnit, why do I like Kyle?_

"Whatever Stan, it's super obvious and everyone knows but you. And anyway, if that's the problem you just need to get over it and stop lying to yourself."

"I'M NOT LYING TO MYSELF!" Stan exclaimed so loudly that his mother in the kitchen peered her head into the living room to see if he was alright. 

Kenny's smirk broadened, now he was positive he was correct. "Sure thing Stan." And he hung up.

"But I am," Stan whispered after the line went dead.

Kenny knew what to do, or at least he had a pretty good idea. He would make them happy and life would be good. The next day his plan would come to fruition.

He called Kyle first, just after 10am. 

"Hello?" Kyle answered.

"Hey Kyle," Kenny greeted in a chipper voice.

"What? I can't understand you, what did you say?" Kyle found it hard understanding the person on the other end.

Kenny sighed in slightfrustration and pulled back the hood on his parka. "Can you understand me now?" Kenny's sweet voice carried clearly and audibly through his end of the phone to Kyle's.

"Yeah, that's better. Who is this?" He asked.

"It's Kenny."

Kyle thought for a moment, "… I think I remember you. You're the kid in the parka, right?" He felt slightly ashamed; when he "first" met Kenny, he was introduced as one of his closest friends and –just like Stan- he couldn't for the life of him remember the little blond kid.

"That's not really important now," he started. "Do you know how to get to Stark's Pond?"

"Uh-huh, I went with Stan a while ago." His heart temporarily stopped when he mentioned Stan.

"Good, meet me there in an hour or so, alright?"

"Sure, but why?" Kyle inquired.

"Just because, you'll thank me."

"Yeah, okay. See you then."

"Bye." Kenny hung up just after Kyle did. 

_Now for Stan, _he dialed the number he had the previous night and Mrs. Marsh answered again.

"He's still sleeping, but I'll go wake him up, it's about time he got up." _Lazy ass, _Kenny thought as Mrs. Marsh went to fetch her son.

Sharon ushered her son out of bed and down the stairs to the phone. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sleepily picked up the phone. "Hello." Came Stan's drowsy voice.

"Good morning," Kenny's voice was just as chipper as it had been with Kyle, it often got that way when he was plotting. By now he had returned his orange hood to its proper place suffocating his head.

"Kenny? Why are you calling me now? I was sleeping." Stan was only slightly more awake now; he'd had a rough night and hadn't gotten much sleep.

"Sorry, I thought you'd be up by now. Anyway, are you busy today?"

"Not that I know of, why?"

"I want to meet you at Stark's Pond in fifty minutes or so." 

Stan was almost fully awake now, but didn't care to ask any farther questions. "Alright, I'll be there, bye."

"Okay, bye." After hanging up the phone Kenny lingered for a moment, pondering how they would react to seeing each other. He had an idea, but always hoped for better.

In an ideal world (wouldn't that be nice) Stan would admit his feelings, Kyle would get his memory back, they'd love each other forever, the end. But aren't we lucky to live in a world that isn't even close to perfect -sarcasm for those of you who are that dense-. Stan could do anything; he could be mad and explode at either himself or Kyle, he could just walk away, but Kenny was pretty sure it wouldn't be the perfect world scenario. He was also pretty sure that this would all eventually turn out for the better.

Sometime around 11am Stan, Kenny, and Kyle made their way to the pre-determined meeting place. Kenny got there first and stood under a large tree. The other two weren't far behind. Kyle was second and in a matter of minutes Stan showed up.

Kenny and Kyle made small talk till Stan's voice interrupted them, "Hey," he paused momentarily, "Kenny…and Kyle." Stan pinned the bridge of his nose and groaned, knowing now that this was a Kenny plan to get him and Kyle to make up.

"Hey," Kenny and Kyle replied in unison.

…-awkward silence-…

"Look, you two need to work this out. I'll help; fuck I'll do whatever the hell you want, just talk to each other. _Look _at each other," Kenny broke the silence.

Both pairs of eyes were buried in the ground, but they reluctantly brought them up to look at the other. 

_Goddamnit Stan, why do you have to have such gorgeous eyes?_ Kyle thought and fought desperately to keep a neutral face. 

Stan's thoughts were basically the same, but he didn't have to fight quite as hard to keep his face neutral. That brief period in which he pined for Wendy and became a Goth kid he came close enough to mastering the emotionless/sad face.

"Stan, why are you doing this to me?" Kyle started.

"Me? What about you? You're the one with a faggy crush on me! How would you feel if your best-friend had a crush on you?" Stan shot before realizing that _he _was Kyle's best friend.

"Uh, Stan I think you know how I'd feel." Kyle couldn't help but smirk just a little bit.

"Okay, never mind," Stan's hands balled into a fist. "But just imagine how I feel."

"I thought you- I don't even know what I thought. Something just seemed right, it _felt _so right." Kyle's voice lacked conviction. 

"Well, you're wrong Kyle! I'm not gay!" He shouted in Kyle's face.

"I never said that," Kyle fired back.

"Fuck you Kyle!" Stan's voice was fierce and reflected his emotional frustration.

"Yes, please fuck me!" Kyle couldn't resist.

Stan was stunned into silence and blushed a deep fuchsia colour and Kenny laughed madly from where he was standing. This only made Stan blush a deeper shade of pink. Stan couldn't think of anything to say, he had such an assortment of fucked up emotions all bombarding his brain and challenging his thoughts. 

_I should give up, just give up and give in right now and tell him I love him. No, he doesn't know what he wants and I'll just get hurt…but maybe it could be for the better. Then again I could end up ruining our friendship, but isn't that what I'm doing right now? _Stan quarreled on in his mind as Kyle waited for him to say something.

"Kyle-" Stan started, but forgot what he was going to say or just decided against it. He decided he had to say something, so this came out, "Kyle I don't want to see you ever again." He regretted saying it, but what's said is said.

"…Stan," Kyle whimpered and felt a hot lump rising in his throat. 

"Just go away." Stan made it worse and winced when he glanced over at the heartbreak written all over Kyle's pale face.

"Fuck, Stan I hate you!" Kyle yelled and threw himself at the stunned boy. He cried on his shoulder then pulled back and tried to stifle his tears away. His emerald eyes fell back to the snow covered ground. "Stan I love you." 

"No Kyle, just no." 

When Kyle returned his eyes to look at the other boy all he saw was the back of his brown jacket walking away. 

"Fuck," Kyle muttered and turned the other way and started walking home.

A rumble of thunder sounded above. This fazed neither Stan nor Kyle who had almost completely forgotten about the reason of this unhappy meeting, Kenny who remained under the tree feeling only slightly satisfied with himself. At least they were talking, right?

The thunder rumbled louder and far more fiercely than before and then-

-ZAP-

Both boys whirled around to see the tree that Kenny was standing under be struck by lightning and fall smack right on top of the constantly dieing little boy.

"Oh my God they killed Kenny!" Stan yelled by matter of habit.

"You bastards!" Kyle added.

And then it came back to him. Everything; it all came back in a blinding, rushing colourful blur.

"Stan?" Kyle groaned, holding his head which hurt like a bitch. "Stan, I remember everything!" Kyle ran over to his best-friend who was running at him too and hugged him liked he'd never hugged him before. And then the events of the past week came rushing back to him in another wave.

"Oh shit," Kyle exclaimed and dropped his arms to his side. "Fuck man, I am so sorry about everything."

"Just tell me you didn't mean it." _Please still love me, please still love me, _Stan silently willed.

"I'm sorry Stan, I love you. I don't know what to say. I still want to be your friend and I hope this doesn't ruin it." Kyle found it easier to articulate his feelings now that he suddenly remembered everything.

"Kyle, I'll have to think about this; I'm-I'm gonna go home. I'll see you around." Stan was too elated to think things through at that moment. 

They both turned and went home.

**Author's note: **So ends another chapter; one of the last, too. There's probably one or two more to come. Yeah, so I just finished this at like midnight so…yeah XD Enjoy the cheesiness and there is more to come.


	9. Flowers are for Pansies

Drowning in Darkness

**Drowning in Darkness**

**Chapter 9: Flowers are for Pansies **

Stan was ecstatic and almost couldn't have been happier, except for one thing: he had been such an ass to Kyle, he'd chalked his super best-friend's feelings up to him being confused and that they weren't real, now that Kyle remembered everything he _knew_ his feelings were real.

_Why am I such a dumbass?_ Stan scolded himself. _I did the right thing though; I mean what if it really was just confusion? I'd have had my heart broken. Well, nothing's stopping me now. I have to do something romantic, _thought Stan, knowing full well that it would more likely than not end up being cheesy, not that he really cared. He was sure Kyle wouldn't either.

He fixed himself an early lunch in the kitchen then flicked on the TV. Not much was on, some old Terrance and Phillip re-runs, but nothing really other than that. He bit into his sandwich and contemplated what he'd do to express his love for Kyle.

Kyle went home, re-thinking the events of the past week as he walked. He couldn't believe he'd expressed his love to Stan and probably fucked a lot of stuff up. There was hope yet; Stan had said that he had to think about some stuff, though that could be good _or _bad. Kyle hoped to Moses it meant something good.

When he got home he casually told his mom and Ike that he had his memory back.

"Oh buhbee that's great!" Sheila smothered her son with a suffocating hug and littered his face with kisses.

"Kyle's back!" Ike hugged his older brother.

"Yeah Ike, it's good to be back." Kyle was filled with so much joy to see and _remember _his family that he momentarily forgot about the Stan predicament.

He circled the house, happy that everything was so familiar and warm. He ended the house tour in his room and plopped down on his bed, exhausted. He'd gone through a tone of emotional turmoil in the past week. He closed his eyes and for precious moments he was swimming in a blissful half-waking state.

Then he slept. He slept and he dreamed. He dreamed of Stan.

_Stan! _Kyle woke with a start and glanced over at his now-familiar alarm clock, it was nearly 3:30pm. _Did I really sleep for that long? _The time slipped away from Kyle, not that he minded, now he felt rested and kind of hungry.

He went down to the kitchen and saw a note on the kitchen table, it read:

_Kyle, _

_gone grocery shopping. Be back around 4, maybe earlier._

_xoxox Mom_

Kyle grabbed some Cheesey-Poofs from a cupboard. Munching contentedly, he strode into the living room, jumped up on the couch, and flicked through the channels to see if anything good was on, no such luck.

After lazily flicking through almost every channel, he heard the doorbell ring. He wondered if it was Stan, he hoped it was. Rushing off the couch and to the door he opened it revealing-

-His mother.

"Oh, hi Mom." Kyle heart sank as soon as he realized it wasn't Stan staring back at him.

"Kyle honey, could you help me bring the groceries in?" Sheila asked as she struggled with an armful of grocery bags.

"Yeah sure," Kyle replied and slipped his boots on to go out and grabbed some bags from the car.

When Gerald got home he was of course thrilled that Kyle had his memory back and was himself again, maybe even more so than Sheila had been. He had his own –more secluded- way of dealing with his son's memory loss; he had mostly kept to himself and done a good job at hiding how much it was tearing him up inside. But life was good again and the older Jewish man reveled in his family's happiness.

Stan thought about what to do for a while. Then he thought some more, then he went downstairs to eat dinner and that's when it hit him. He gasped so fast and suddenly that he almost choked on the bite of supper he just placed in his mouth.

"I know!" He exclaimed after coughing a bit.

"Know what, Stanley?" His mother casually inquired.

"Oh," Stan blushed slightly, realizing he had interrupted supper with a spontaneous outburst of gleeful expression, "uh, nothing. Just something I figured out… Can I be excused please?"

"Finish your supper then you can do whatever you want," Sharon stated and bit a piece of broccoli off her fork.

Stan hastily shoveled the remains of his supper into his mouth and rushed from the table.

"Hold on there mister," Sharon called as her son was opening the front door, "Remember that you have school tomorrow so don't be out too long."

"Sure Mom, I'm just," he paused for a second, "going to Kyle's". He walked out the door and into the crisp air that nipped his face.

Kyle heard the doorbell ring moments after he put his dishes on the counter to be washed. His heart sped up; maybe _this _time it would be Stan.

"I'll get it!" Kyle called as he ran for the door.

When he opened it he saw nothing or no one. _Some dumb fucker played a- oh. _He paused mid-thought as he noticed a small bouquet of red roses. He blinked and stared dumbly at them for a moment before bending down to pick them up. There was a tag on it that read:

_I love you more than I have ever loved anyone ever before. _

_-Stan_

Kyle's heart fluttered as he clutched the sweet smelling roses to his chest. He read the note over and over, still not believing it. It made his heart sing every time he read it. On the way to his room Kyle grabbed a vase and filled it with water to put the roses in. He stuck them on his dresser and stared dreamily at them for a while before he decided to happily return the favor to Stan.

He rushed out of the house with just enough time to tell his mother that he was going to Stan's house. She didn't question her son as he flashed passed her and out the door into the biting cold. He noted that the sun was still in the sky, but it wouldn't be long before it started to disappear. He had to act fast if he planned on watching the sunset with Stan.

There was a small floral shop in town –no doubt the same place Stan had gotten the flowers for him- which he had run to all the way from his house. Out of breath, Kyle slowed to a walk and opened the door. He didn't need to look for long to find a bouquet of roses. He walked up to the cashier to pay.

"You wanna put anything on a tag, hon?" A sweet, older lady asked with a wrinkled smile.

"Yeah, um," Kyle thought for a moment what he would put. "I want, 'Meet me at Stark's Pond. Love Kyle'," he confidently and determinedly told her as he picked the twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and then another twenty when he realized the half-a-dozen roses cost a considerable amount more. Not that he really noticed how much money he was spending; all he could think of was Stan.

"You got y'rself a girlfriend little dear?" The old lady's smile broadened.

"Not exactly, but I would like him to be my boyfriend."

"Aww, well isn't that just sweet," she cooed without missing a beat.

Smiling, she took the money and wished him good luck.

Kyle rushed again across town to Stan's house, put the flowers down, rang the door bell, and ran away.

Stan had been half-expecting this and smirked at the sound of the door bell.

"Get the door turd." Shelly's eyes didn't move from the TV as she ordered her younger brother to answer the door.

"Yeah, sure thing!" Stan jumped eagerly from the place on the couch next to his abusive sister and hurried to the door.

Opening it he was happy to see that he was right. He got slightly giddy when he read the note from Kyle, but didn't let it show too much. He read it again and again until he realized that maybe he should go meet Kyle.

He ran up to his room to put his flowers on his bed before he left so that no one would find them and read the note.

"I'm going to Kyle's," Stan said, passing his mom as he fled quickly down the stairs and towards the door.

"But you were just at Kyle's. Why did you come back if you're just going over again?" Sharon pried and stopped her son before he could get to the door.

"I left something here and… yeah," Stan trailed off as he slipped past his mother and out the door.

Stan made it to Stark's Pond in no time to see Kyle sitting on a bench facing the sunset. It had just begun its daily decent through the sky that was now a fiery orange. He stopped for a moment to admire his little kosher boy basking in the glow of the complimenting sky colours.

Kyle turned when he felt he was being watched and his expression softened when he saw Stan. He motioned for him to come sit with him and Stan obliged.

They were both rather awkward at first, blushing when their eyes met then quickly looking away. Stan didn't stand for this for long and wrapped Kyle in a slightly awkward embrace and kissed him lightly on the lips. Their gazes locked and their gloved fingers intertwined.

They kissed again, this time with more confidence and passion… and tongues. Stan un-locked their fingers and wrapped his arms around Kyle's back, stroking him lovingly.

They reluctantly broke away and stared lovingly at each other for a while, resting their foreheads on each other's before Kyle said, "I love you and I am never going to let you go. It's kind of funny that my memory loss was what dragged my confession out of me." He chuckled quietly.

"I'm glad it did." Stan nuzzled his love and watched the sun slip behind the mountains and bathe them in a comforting darkness. And in that darkness shone the light of their love.

**A/N**: BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH shamefully cheesy, terrible ending, for that I am sorry, as well as the chapter title which was a sinfully lame pun. I wasn't entirely sure how to end it, so I think that's what spawned the terribly cheesiness of it… yeah, so I like reviews if anyone feels like being supper nice and reviewing :D


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